


Hospitals and HYDRA

by TheWinterCaptain



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt Bruce, Hydra, I don't know what I'm doing, Sassy Tony, hurt reader, not emotionally hurt, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWinterCaptain/pseuds/TheWinterCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HYDRA just won't quit and the next target is the Avengers Tower. You and Bruce are the only ones hurt, but life is hanging in the balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I know that summary is just awful, I'm sorry! But yeah hopefully the story will be better xx

You felt a sharp pain in your right knee, but kept walking, you had to keep walking. You limped slightly, your knee searing. You rolled up your jeans but there was no wound, maybe something dislodged but nothing major. It didn’t matter, as long as you kept going. He needed you.

As you made your way through the torn wreckage of the room, kicking debris and stray rocks out of the way with your toes, you saw a figure under a large amount of rubble. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, pounding harder and harder with each step you took towards the person. As you approached, you saw his curly brown hair and ran towards him, completely disregarding the screaming from your injured leg.

“Bruce? Bruce, are you okay?” You said, lightly pushing his shoulder. He didn’t move, and you only just noticed why. His arm was caught under a large rock; it didn’t seem to be crushing it, more trapping it, thankfully. He lay there, almost lifeless, eyes closed, chest barely moving as he took raspy breaths. Your eyes stung with tears but you fought them back. He’s okay, no need to cry, this will be okay. You knelt beside him, brushing dust of his button-up shirt. For once, all of this destruction hadn’t been from the Other Guy. You took his freed, right hand in yours, and stroked his hair back from his forehead. When you took your hand away, they were slightly stained red.

“Bruce, you’ve got to wake up, come on!” You were close to shouting now, coughing from the dirt inhalation. You let go of his hand and shook his shoulders, tears starting to fall now, you couldn’t stop them. You watched as a few drops hit his shirt, darkening the purple hue of the fabric. His breathing was getting somehow even slower, yours getting faster. You pushed back the panic that was attacking your system. He needed you; you didn’t have time to panic. You placed your forehead on his chest, listening to his slow staggering heartbeat.

“Please, I need you,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. Your heart was breaking. This couldn’t be happening. You heard rustling and movement a few feet away from you and you looked up to see Clint Barton struggling through the wreckage towards you, a look of fear on his face. You knew that’s what he saw on yours too.

“What happened?” he exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulder, crouching beside you. He hit a bruise on your skin, but bruises covered your skin anyway so you shrugged it off. He saw you wince in pain and quickly let go of your shoulder.

“I don’t know, one moment we were working away in the lab and the next I’m waking up in all this dirt. It happened so fast that he didn’t even have time to Hulk out. It doesn’t matter right now, we’ve got to help him!” you pleaded, indicating to Bruce. 

“Right,” Clint said with a note of determination.

He stood up and heaved the rock off of the doctor’s arm and checked to see if there was much damage. The rock tumbled to the side loudly, crushing bits of broken concrete. The noise rang in your ears and you winced. Clint slide one arm under Bruce’s back and the other under his left leg. You followed suit for the other side and together, you carried him out of what was left of the lab in the Avengers Tower. The hallway looked just as bad, electrical wires hung from the walls and a pipe had burst on the ceiling, slowly filling the hall with steam.

“Listen, I think the elevator is down, we’ll have to take the stairs,” Clint said, groaning under the weight of Bruce.

You nodded and shuffled as fast as you could towards the staircases, wincing every time you put pressure on your leg. Clint saw the pain in your eyes and gave you a concerned look. You brushed it off and walked faster, your heart racing with adrenaline. Eventually you made it and began the daunting descent down the stairs. Each step you took, your knee buckled a little more. Both of you were sweating now and you looked at Bruce, watching to see if he moved in any way on his own.

After what felt like hours, you made it down the torturous steps, greeted by the alarming sound of an ambulance. You were so close to escaping. Someone barged through an emergency exit and began shouting, but your vision was too blurry to tell who it was. Another person ran after them and they took Bruce from your arms. The second his body was taken, everything went black.


	2. Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fairly certain this chapter is way too long but I didn't really know where to cut it off, yeah anyway enjoy! xx

You woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping steadily (and annoyingly) next to you. You tried to groan but your mouth was so dry that it was barely audible. You peeled your eyes open a fraction and shut them again, automatically trying to block out the blinding white light that engulfed the room. You took a deep breath through your nose, noticing something plastic at the edge of your nostrils. Okay, one more time. You opened your eyes again, this time squinting to adjust to the light. You peered around the room. You were in what looked like a hospital bed. The room was gleaming with white tiles, white bed clothes, and white bedside lockers, but something stood out. The door had creaked open to reveal a woman walking in, dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket, contrasting against the fiery red of her hair and the sterile room.

“Nat,” you mouthed, barely making a sound, and Natasha gave you a small smile.

“Hey sleepy head,” she said jokingly but you could see a hint of concern in her eyes. You tried to return a smile, but your dry, cracked lips wouldn’t co-operate. You noticed she had a glass of water in her hand and she strode towards you, placing it on the bedside locker and helping you sit up. You crinkled your eyes in affection and she lifted the glass to your lips. When the cool liquid slid down your throat, you thought you had gone to heaven and back, moisture finally returning to your mouth. Swallowing, you tried your hand at speech.

“What…what happened?” you murmured. Turns out talking hurt your head.

“People are saying it was some sort of earthquake, well that’s what the press is saying,” she said, looking like she was trying too hard to seem nonchalant and honest. You knew her poker face.

“And what are we saying?” you said, slightly louder, coughing. “We” meaning S.H.I.E.L.D. of course. Natasha sighed, dropping the act.

“An attack, well, a bombing to be precise, possibly from HYDRA,” she said, glancing around to make sure we weren’t bugged. You processed this information but only one question stood out in your mind.

“And…B-Bruce?” you whispered, staring intently into her emerald eyes, hoping to find some sort of information, just in case she assumed her poker face again. She hesitated slightly.

“He’s…recovering,” she said, breaking your gaze. You glared at her and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to see him?”

You couldn’t get out of the bed fast enough, pulling out the cannula attached to your nose, being able to breathe just fine and started unclipping things attached to your fingers and yanking an IV out of your forearm. You winced; it always looked so easy on television. You licked your thumb, pressing it against the bleeding incision that once held the thin needle. You clambered out of the bed only to stumble and fall back, looking down at your right knee, which was wrapped tightly in a bandage. You sighed, looking up at Natasha. She smirked and walked out the door, returning briefly with a wheelchair. Great, as if you didn’t feel helpless enough. You limped to the chair and she rolled it towards you. You dropped into the chair with a thud, groaning as every part of your body ached with pain.

“He mumbles your name every so often, but hasn’t woken up yet,” she said, you could hear the fondness in her voice. You gave a tiny smile. Natasha wheeled you out of the room, checking up and down the halls to see if a doctor was approaching. Your heartbeat picked up speed and sweat began to form on your brow as you saw her steering you towards a ward that said “Intensive Care”. We passed rows and rows of windowless doors, each with a number nailed to the outside, with a name on a piece of paper slipped into a metal grate underneath it. Your felt your breathing grow shallower and the lights seemed to dim, hearing your heart pounding loudly in your ears. We finally reached a door with the name “Banner, Bruce” printed in the grate and you took a deep breath. Natasha leaned forward and opened the door. Your breath hitched.

“Bruce…” you whispered softly. He lay in a room similar to yours, except this one had a lot more machines hooked up to him. Tears prickled in the inside of your eyes, but this time, you didn’t hold them back. They rolled, one by one, down your cheeks and soon your whole face was damp and you had to wipe them away. Natasha continued to push you in the wheelchair, right next to the bed.

“I’ll be outside, call if you need anything,” she said quietly, stepping away from the chair and shutting the door. You didn’t even look up, you just stared at Bruce. He looked so much worse than you felt, and you felt pretty terrible. His left arm was painted with blue, black, and purple bruises, with a bandage wrapped around his wrist. He had some dark bruises and cuts along his face and neck too. You leaned in, wiping the tears from your eyes and squinted at his forehead. There were a few stitches along his hairline but it didn’t look major. You grasped the wheels as firmly as you could, slowly inching the chair as close to the bed as possible.

You reached forward and stretched a small, pale and emaciated hand towards his right one, slipping your fingers into his. You sighed with relief; they were still as warm as ever. Even on the brink of death, not much had changed. You stared at him for quite a while, watching his eyes shifting back and forth underneath his eyelids. You rested your head on his hand and a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Before you even knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

~

You woke to the sound of a door shutting and the rustling of loud material. You moaned and lifted your head, gripping the hand that you had been laying on. You realised the noise had been coming from the hospital bed sheets. You slowly raised your eyes, terrified what you might see. Your gaze met his beautiful, chocolate brown eyes and you felt a tear or two creep out from your eyes. Bruce gave you a goofy yet weary smile, looking battered and bruised but still as adorable as ever.

“Hey there, sleepy,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. You raised a hand to your head, dragging your hair back from your forehead. You looked a wreck but he seemed like he didn’t care.

“Why does everyone keep saying that,” you giggled. “Do I really look that bad?”

“You look beautiful all the time,” Bruce’s eyes widened as if he had stepped on a mine bomb. His cheeks would have blushed if the blood wasn’t already clotting all of his wounds.

“Well…even in your state, you still manage to look as handsome as ever, Bruce,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. He returned the pressure, sending a tingling sensation through your hand. “I was really worried about you.”

“(Y/N)…you know that I can’t…” he began to say, shifting his gaze from yours.

“That’s not the point, you almost did. I… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

His eyes flickered back to you but you were staring at the ground, blinking back the tears. This is ridiculous, you’re getting weak.

“I know the feeling,” he said sincerely, tugging your hand. You looked up, meeting his kind eyes. He stroked your hand in small circles absentmindedly with his thumb. “But, we’re both…relatively okay, safe and sound, so let’s put that worry behind us, for the moment at least.”

You smiled weakly and glanced back when you heard the door creak open. Tony Stark stuck his head in the door, sunglasses slightly askew on his face.

“Interrupting anything?” he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. Bruce chuckled and shook his head. Tony slunk into the room, followed by Steve Rogers and Clint Barton.

“Hey kiddo, how are you feeling?” Clint said, ruffling your hair gently. You replied with a weary smile and blinked slowly. You were so tired that even blinking took effort. Steve patted your shoulder and you winced. “Take it easy, Cap, she’s got more bruises than normal coloured skin at this point!”

Steve gasped slightly when he noticed the pain in your eyes and quickly withdrew his hand.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), I completely forgot!” Steve gushed, his face losing colour. You giggled and shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it Steve, it’s practically impossible to touch me without hitting something sore at this point, you never stood a chance,” you reassured him with a smile and he sighed. You felt Bruce’s fingers start to slip from yours and you looked back at him. His face wore a look of concern and he was looking at your hand as if he was going to break it.

“No Brucey, not you, I think my hands okay,” you whispered to him with a wink and his grip tightened on yours again. He smiled tiredly at you and he closed his eyes for a few moments.

“Gosh (Y/N), you’re taking up my Science Bro time and now he’s falling asleep,” Tony teased. He stood on the other side of Bruce’s bed and lightly flicked his cheek. “C’mon buddy!”

“Tony,” Steve warned with a disapproving look. Tony rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

“It’s getting late; you want me to wheel you back to your room?” Clint offered.

“Anyway I can stay here?” you asked hopefully, knowing what the answer would most likely be.

“Sorry bud, Nat said she snuck you out, you’re not even supposed to be here,” he said ruefully. You sighed, slightly crestfallen and gave Bruce’s hand a quick squeeze before twisting your chair around. Clint grasped the handles and started to push you out the door. You raised a shaky hand to wave goodbye to Tony and Steve, who both returned the salute with a head nod.

You threw your head back and stared up at Clint. He glanced down at you and gave a small smirk. He schooled his features into a mask of seriousness suddenly though and frowned.

 

“How are you really doing?” he pressed, poking you softly in the forehead with his finger. You and Clint had been through a lot together, he was like a brother to you (as cliché as that might sound). 

“You know me a little too well, Legolas,” you said with a devilish grin. “I’ve got a great view up your nose from here, by the way.”

“Hey now, I’m trying to be serious!” he exclaimed with a small laugh.

“Fine. You know it only just happened right? I’m still kind of processing. I thought I was going to lose him,” your voice dropped to a whisper, only loud enough for Clint to hear. He started to open his mouth to say something but you cut across him. “I know, everyone knows, no matter how many times people, including him, have tried, he seems pretty indestructible because of the Other Guy. But Clint, he didn’t show up this time, it was just Bruce, and Bruce is as mortal as you and I.”

“We don’t exactly know that, this is as close as he’s gotten I’d say, but he’s recovering, and so are you, don’t get hung up on it okay?” he said with another hair tussle. You nodded and straightened up so that you faced forward. It didn’t take as much time to get back to your room as you thought and soon you were being lifted gently into your bed by Clint, just as a doctor strolled in.

“Did you get up?” the doctor said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Uh, she needed to go the bathroom, would you mind fixing her IV and stuff?” Clint said quickly, attempting to take the attention off of the fact that you had left the room. 

“She could have used a bedpan,” the doctor said, shaking her head as you wiggled under your blankets and sticking out your left arm to allow her to return the drip back into its place.

“I think I’d rather pee on the street,” you said scornfully, rolling your eyes. “Bedpans are like the sterile and more obvious version of urinating in a bottle.”

Clint choked back a laugh and covered it with a cough, using his hand to cover his smile. 

“Anyways, you don’t have to worry about that, you’ll be released in the morning, provided there’s someone responsible here to pick you up,” she said, shooting a death glare at Clint.

“That would be me!” Clint grinned, puffing out his chest.

“That would be Natasha actually, she’s down as my emergency contact,” you smirked as he deflated.

“Not Bruce?” he said with a wink and a raised eyebrow.

“Well what use would that be if he’s in here too?” you replied and Clint nodded, realising you were right. You turned to face the doctor as she was about to leave.

“Um, would it be possible to know when another patient, Bruce Banner, could be realised?” you asked hopefully.

“Sorry, I can disclose that information to family members and partners,” she said coldly. You obviously had gotten on her bad side but you couldn’t really care less at this point.

“She’s his girlfriend,” Clint piped up with a grin. You shot a glare at him as you blushed furiously.

“Well, he’s not my patient, but I will check and let you know in the morning. Visiting hours are closed now, so I suggest you leave soon,” the doctor said with a deadpanned expression before turning on her heal and marching out the door.

“Well, catch you later kiddo,” Clint said, leaning down to give you a gently hug, attempting to avoid your bruises.

“See ya, Katniss,” you smiled affectionately before closing your eyes, not realising how tired you were. You barely noticed Clint sneak out of your room and shut the door quietly before you drifted off into a deep sleep.


	3. Painkillers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of fluff, just a cute-ish (i hope) thing

“(Y/N), wake up, it’s time to go,” a voice whispered in your ear. 

You opened one eye to find a smirking red head by your side with a handful of clean clothes. It was then you realised that you had been wearing a hospital gown and groaned, you probably looked so weird in it. You opened both of your eyes and sat up as a nurse came into the room with a smile so bright and happy that it could blind someone.

“Hey hun, how are you feeling today?” he said, fiddling with your drip and unhooking you from the machines.

“Bit of headache, any chance of some painkillers to go?” you asked hopefully, still barely awake but feeling the burn of your injuries.

“No problem, I’ll just leave you and your friend to get you ready and meet you in the lobby with them okay?” The nurse winked playfully and left the room. Natasha helped you get up and into a pair of shorts and a t shirt, taking care not to brush too hard against your leg. Once you were ready, she wheeled the forbidden chair out from the corner and you cursed under your breath.

“I can walk fine, Nat,” you glare at the damn chair, hopping up onto your feet, only to have your knee buckle and crumple to floor before Nat caught you.

“You and your pride. Just get in the damn chair,” she growled with a smirk. You sighed as she heaved you up and placed you in the chair. As she wheeled you out of the room, you passed the bitchy doctor from yesterday and called out to her. She turned around and you could almost see the distain in her face.

“Oh yes, Miss (Y/L/N), you’re checking out now?” she said, a little too cheerily. 

“Uh yes, I was just wondering, did you find out when Bruce Banner could leave yet?” you said hesitantly.

“He’s being transferred, a Mr Tony Stark just went to pick him up a few minutes ago,” she replied, stalking off down the hallway again.

“The Tower has an infirmary, probably more high tech than this place” Natasha explained as she pushed you towards the reception desk. The friendly nurse sat behind the counter and grinned, holding out some papers for you and Nat to sign. Just as he was about to hand you the papers, Tony came racing around the corner with a panicked Bruce in a wheelchair. He skidded to a stop beside you and smirked smugly at his driving skills.

“Hey, we’re wheelchair buddies!” you exclaimed delightedly. “Let’s have a race!”

“Somehow I don’t think that will work out,” Bruce laughed, raising his injured hand.

“Who’s this hun, your boyfriend?” the nurse asked with a mischievous wink. You blushed and looked at Bruce, who had turned as red as you. The nurse giggled (actually giggled!) and handed a bottle of painkillers to Nat. You reached out and interlocked your fingers with Bruce’s on his good hand as both Tony and Nat turned the wheelchairs around and pushed you out of the hospital.

“Um Tony, didn’t your Tower get destroyed during the… incident?” you asked cautiously.

“I’ve got a renovation team on speed dial, they already started working on it as soon as you, Bruce, and Clint got out,” he said matter-of-factly. You shrugged and leaned into your wheelchair. You would never admit it, but it was nice having someone drive you around, even if it did make you feel just a little bit pathetic. You must have had a strange expression on your face because you felt a squeeze on your hand and looked at Bruce, who was staring at you, his face full of concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worry filling his voice. You smiled sleepily and stuck out your tongue.

“It’s a bit early, isn’t it,” you said vaguely. Did they have you on painkillers while you were asleep or something? Bruce just laughed and nodded. You were wheeled towards Natasha’s black Chevrolet and broke away from Bruce and Tony as they made their way to Tony’s car. You heaved yourself out of the chair and balanced on one foot, using the car to keep you steady until Nat unlocked it. She waited until you had gotten in safely before folding your wheelchair, throwing it in the back, and jumping into the driver’s seat. The engine drummed to life as she turned the keys.

“How are you doing?” she asked as you pulled out of the car park.

“Fine, all things considering,” you replied nonchalantly, gazing out the passenger side window.

“Fine? You were bombed by HYRDA and you’re fine?” she stated with disbelief.

“I said all things considering, didn’t I?” you joked. “Nat, honestly, I came out with a banged up ankle and a few scrapes, I’ve had worse.” She pursed her lips and nodded slowly. She was quiet the rest of the journey back to the Tower and helped you out of the car. She went to pull out the wheelchair before you grabbed her arm and looked at her desperately. She rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm around your waist, standing on your right side. You gave a small smile but grimaced whenever your foot touched the ground.

Natasha helped you hobble all the way through security and into the elevator.

“So, we’re going to your floor?” she said, her voice slightly higher than normal, making you give her an ‘are you serious’ look.

“You know damn well we’re going to the infirmary, now pass me those painkillers,” you commanded. The short walk from the car park to the elevator was surprising draining. Bruce was probably already in the infirmary, seeing as Tony doesn’t like to abide by speed limits. The elevator ascended smoothly when Natasha touched some buttons and you leaned against the railing, taking a moment to catch your breath. Nat handed you the bottle and you flipped off the lid, struggling momentarily with the safety lock, and dry swallowed some of the painkillers. The lift slowed to a halt and the doors opened with a *ding*.

Natasha latched onto you again and you leaned into her grip as you hopped into a room that seemed (impossibly) even whiter than your hospital room. There were several beds lined up against one wall, all complete with bedside lockers, chairs and curtains. Only one bed was occupied as Bruce sat awkwardly on one at the very end. Tony was talking animatedly to a young nurse in her early twenties. She started to twirl a strand of blonde hair between her fingers and you rolled your eyes.

“AHEM,” Natasha said loudly, making Tony jump and put a hand over his heart.

“Just put me over there so I don’t have to talk to him,” you whispered to Natasha, indicating towards Bruce. She nodded and you walked towards him with her. She set you down on the bed beside him and smirked slightly when he took your hand in his. You grinned and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m so sleepy, Bruce. What’s with that?” you asked, sighing.

“(Y/N)… did you have any painkillers?” he asked suspiciously. You nodded against his shoulder and he laughed lightly. He let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging you against him. You glanced over your shoulder to see Natasha pulling Tony’s ear and dragging him out of the room, with the nurse’s glare boring into her back. You giggled and cuddled back up to Bruce.

“Can we sleep?” you asked, yawning.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Bruce said, shifting so that you could both lie down in the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. You lay your head on his chest and hummed softly as the familiar thump of his heart was beating softly beneath his shirt and skin. Your eyelids began to flutter and close and soon you fell asleep as he kissed the top of your head softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hopefully going to actually put more plot into this instead of JUST fluff but let me know if that's what you'd want or would I just continue with lovely reader and Bruce just helping each other get better.
> 
> Thanks for reading! xx


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